Warrick's POV:

"What the hell does Grissom do when he's here?" Catherine said as she examined the small cottage nestled in the middle of no where.

"He reads. Come look at the living room," I said as I ran my finger along the bookshelf. My finger swept away a thick coat of gray dust. I was afraid to touch the books. The leather bindings looked worn. They looked as though years of reading might have softened the once sturdy leather. Two massive bookshelves housed well over one hundred old books.

"Oh, wow. My mom had an old copy of Peter Rabbit. The bindings were worn exactly like that. I loved that book," Catherine said as she collapsed onto a dusty couch. I stood across the room trying to pretend that we were together under different circumstances. I tried to pretend this was something more than it actually was. I tried to pretend that she wasn't my supervisor. I tried to pretend that for one moment, Catherine might stop acting like my supervisor.

"Are you okay?" I asked. I knew she wouldn't give me a straight answer. Catherine was strong; everything about her life had forced her to become tough. She was just about as tough as they come. In many ways, Catherine was so much tougher than Sara ever could be.

"I was the lucky one. He could have killed Sara if Jim hadn't pulled into the parking lot," Catherine simply stated.

"I know. She didn't look good when she got back to the lab," I commented. I had worked hard to keep Catherine away from Sara. I was positive that Sara would be in a fighting mood. She hated to be the victim. I always imagined that it was because Sara had been the victim one too many times in her life. I could see the anger in Sara's eyes; if I was in her position, my anger would probably be the same. I would probably say things that I didn't mean. I wondered if Sara was alright. I wondered if Nick would be able to handle Sara.

"I don't know why I never liked her. I know everyone wanted to believe that I was jealous of her and Grissom. It wasn't that . . . she's a good worker . . . a good CSI. I just never let myself like her," Catherine said. I was surprised that Catherine was so brutally honest with me. I wasn't surprised to hear Catherine admit that she didn't like Sara. There had always been a silent tension between them. After Eddie was murdered, the silent tension evolved into something that screamed louder than I ever imagined it would.

"Cath, I wanted to know if you were okay," I clarified as I sat next to her on the couch. She rested her head against my shoulder, which cleverly hid her face from my view.

"Rick, she could have died because of me," Catherine replied in the quietest voice.

"But she didn't," I said as I tried to shift so I could see her face.

"That doesn't really change anything, does it?" Catherine asked as she hung her head.

"No. You do know that this isn't your fault. We all get threatening mail. This guy is just crazy enough to act on it," I said as I fought to get her to look at me. The best I could do way run my hands through her hair. It was so soft and so fine. I wanted so badly to pull her into my arms, but Catherine always had to do these things on her own terms. In that sense, she was a Braun. Sam Braun did everything on his own terms.

"What if I was wrong?" Catherine asked. She lifted her tear stained face.

"The technology wasn't as good ten years ago. We do the best we can with what we have to work with," I said as I used my thumb to wipe away a tear that was slithering down her creamy white skin.

"Are you sure the officer said that Lindsey was almost here?" Catherine asked. I knew that she hadn't come to any kind of resolution. It would take time for her to forgive herself for what she hadn't done wrong.

"She'll be here in fifteen . . . twenty minutes," I said as I looked at my watch.

"You know . . . Lindsey loves you. You and Nick spoiled her so much. You guys gave her what Eddie couldn't," Catherine rambled. I could feel my heart break for her. There were so many things that had gone wrong in her life . . . so few things went right. Work might have been the only thing that she had control over. She sure didn't have control over Lindsey. Lindsey had become quite the young woman. She was becoming what Catherine once was despite all Catherine's efforts to give her the world.

"She's always been easy to love," I replied. Catherine nodded and bit her lip in an effort to prevent the tears from escaping again. "So much like her mother."

"Don't lie to me to make me feel better," Catherine said quietly.

"I wasn't lying. That day in the culvert . . . I wanted to kiss you," I said softly. I drew her closer to me. I could feel her ragged breaths on my face.

"You should have. I would have kissed you back," Catherine said. Her blue eyes momentarily didn't look as cold as they normally do. "It's too late for that now."

"Catherine, it's only too late if you make it too late," I said. Something about Catherine drove me crazy. I came from a family that didn't believe in biracial relationships. My aunt stopped talking to one of my cousins after she saw Leticia kissing a white man outside a diner. It wasn't that my family was closed-minded. They were just very proud of our African American culture. My grandmother told me about how our family rose from having nothing and working the fields in Mississippi to having a home and two cars. In my grandmother's eyes, that feat was nothing short of achieving greatness. I wondered what she would think of Catherine. Catherine rose from having nothing but her body to having a home, a successful career, and a greatness that I couldn't even begin to describe.

"I'm your supervisor," Catherine replied. The look on her face told me that this was just lip service. The look in her eyes said that she wanted it not to be too late.

"Only for ten hours day," I said as I ran my hands through her hair again. I've always loved her 'to hell with the rules' look. I was surprised to see that mischievous smile spread across her face.

Her lips trembled slightly against mine, but gave way to a forceful passion. I didn't want to let her go. I wanted to stay frozen like this until it was safe to return to Vegas.

"Mom," Lindsey said as the front door opened. Catherine all but leaped away from me. Lindsey ran to her. She began asking Catherine a million questions about what happened to Sara. She asked if Catherine was going to be safe. I told Lindsey that I, along with the three armed guards, would give my life to protect them. It made Lindsey happy. She smiled and made me promise to keep her and her mother safe.

I spent the night laying on the floor with my loaded gun tucked under the dresser. It was close enough for me to reach it, but not so close that it could be seen by and intruder. I woke up to Lindsey's soft sobbing at three in the morning. She laid on the floor next to me and confessed that she was scared that 'the psycho' might try to hurt us. I reminded Lindsey that I would do anything to protect her and Catherine. Lindsey asked to sleep on the floor next to me; she said that it made her feel safer. It made her feel safe the same way that having me sleep on the couch in the days after Eddie was murdered made her feel safe. I wished Catherine knew how much I loved her and her daughter.